Breaking Free
by Elipsa
Summary: Many whispered their name: in fear, in loathing, in awe. But they never knew the truth. Not a single one. His family lied about who they were. Stuck in the lies and deceit, will Draco stay true to himself, or lose himself?
1. Prologue

"Where are they?!" A woman's voice, straining into a high octave, could be heard throughout the mansion. She raced down the marble stairs, one hand grasping her nightgown to her thigh while the other trailed over the banister. She stumbled, trying to take the steps two at a time. "Dipsy! Where are they?!"

"I dos not know. They is not in the house." A small creature with large, yellow eyes and long floppy ears raced to keep up, its shorter legs trying to match the punishing pace the woman set. Its thin lips were parted as gasps escaped the creature. "Mixen should knows, Mistresses, if they is on grounds."

The woman stumbled, her slippered feet slipping on the smooth stone of the entrance hall. Long strands of blonde hair swirled in front of her eyes, her fingers pushing the strands to the side as she raced for the entrance, her breathing come out in harsh pants. "Mixen!"

There was a pop followed quickly by a squeak and another creature running after her. "Mistress!"

The woman reached the front door and flung it open as she exited the manor, her hair flying out behind her. "Where are they, Mixen?"

She leaped down the stairs, nearly falling to her knees when her feet contacted with the cobblestone leading up to the entrance of her home. Her hand slapped the ground to keep herself from tipping over, using her strength to push herself upright and forced herself to keep running.

Where were they? She raced to them, but where was she to find them?

"Follows Mixen!" The creature she had called to her broke through her frantic thoughts, causing her to turn and follow where the creature went.

She quickly caught up to it. It wasn't moving as quickly as she needed so she swooped down and held it in her arms as she ran. "Where, Mixen, where?!"

"Into the woodses!" A long, thin, knobbly finger pointed the direction.

She ran off the path and onto the trail that Mixen led her to. The bottom of her slipper caught on a rock and she lost her balance, falling to the earth. However, she didn't land on the rocks and branches but on an invisible cushion, pushing her back to her feet.

The woman - once rightened - kicked off her slippers and continued on, her bare feet flying over the earth as she raced forward, ignoring everything but where Mixen was pointing.

Finally, finally she burst through the woods and into a clearing and found who she sought.

She ran into an invisible barrier, her body thrown back to land on the earth, jagged rocks digging into her back. She released Mixen and jumped back to her feet, rushing to the barrier. She struck her fists at it, screams slipping from her throat.

"Stop! No! Don't!" She dropped to her knees, tears slipping from her eyes. She pressed her palms against the barrier, "No! Break down the barrier, Mixen!"

Her husband's blue eyes looked over at her, his long, blonde bangs hiding his eyes from her view. But his mouth still continued to move, magic swirling around him and their sleeping child.

"I can't…"

"Stop," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before she opened them again.

Her baby, under his father's sleeping spell, was surrounded by a black mist that moved from her husband to her child. The longer her husband chanted, the more his magic seemed to be sucked towards her boy until there was only a mass of black surrounding his head.

"Stop. He's five. You promised." She bowed her head, her hair falling over her eyes and her hands covered her face as she sobbed. "You promised!"

She didn't notice when Mixen knelt by her side.

All she knew was that she was too late.

* * *

A/N IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Hi everyone! if you haven't seen my profile, then let me tell you what I'm doing. This is the first of 5 stories I'm posting today. I've been stuck on writing because I've been juggling between all the stories in my head. I'm going to focus on the story that gets the most views/follows/favorites/reviews ect ect. in the next week. I'll be doing a tally on 2-25-18.

Warnings and info are going to be in chapter one - which I will post... now :)

Unbeta'd


	2. Chapter 1

Italics at the beginning of a chapter = a memory, not always Draco's, and there isn't always a memory.

Letters - you know, notes to other people and stuff - and thoughts are also done in italics

The rest of my A/N will be at the bottom of the chapters, so this will be the only chapter with anything from me in the beginning. :)

Please enjoy.

* * *

 _"Again."_

 _"Again?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"But… but why?"_

 _"You need to learn how to control it."_

 _"Why? It's just a part of me, right?"_

 _"Not quite."_

 _"It's not? Why?"_

 _"You need to practice."_

 _"But why?"_

 _"Your mother wants you to."_

 _"Is she scared?"_

 _"Again."_

 _"Again?"_

 _"…"_

 _"Yes, Sev."_

* * *

A small boy - no more than eleven of age - stood in front of a large door, the wooden panels shimmering with protective magic. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his blonde bangs shielding his eyes from view. Teeth were nibbling on his bottom lip as he tried to find a reason not to knock on the door.

After standing there for a few minutes, the boy sighed and straightened his posture. He brought his hand up and knocked, his father's magic coursing over his knuckles.

When he snatched his hand back, the door swung open and his father's voice drifted towards him, "Enter."

Why his father felt the need to open the door in invitation and say 'enter' was beyond his comprehension. What happened if the door opened and someone entered, but his father didn't want anyone to actually come in? Then what was the purpose of having the door open?

The blonde shook his head and stepped into his father's study and looked around. The walls were lined with bookcases, filled with large tomes. Some were written in different languages, others were cracked from multiple use and still others were in pristine condition - probably had never been used. He had to wonder why his father even had those books if he never used them.

Though the boy wore dragonhide boots, he knew that the carpet under his feet was soft. He remembered times when he was younger when he would sleep on the rug, comparing the color to the sky that he could see from behind his father. He used to close his eyes and he would be surrounded by the smell of parchment and ink, with the subtle scent of his father - a colognine that hinted at spices - intermingled with them.

His father sat behind a desk crafted from the same wood as the door: maple, if the boy remembered correctly. The desk was laden with piles of paper that held his father's writing, quills and ink bottles lined the side that was closest to the boy and the days paper was on the corner of the desk, looking as if it were about to drift to the floor. On the front page of the Daily Prophet the minister - Cornelius Fudge - waved at the cameras with a large grin that made his face look large.

"Draco."

The younger blonde snapped to attention, his eyes meeting his father's grey-blue eyes: the same eyes, his mother swore, that his father had given Draco.

His father smiled at him, removing lines from his pale face, "Are you ready to go to Diagon Alley?"

Draco nodded eagerly, answering his father's smile with his own grin. "I am! Mum says we're leaving soon and to meet her in the Reception Room. Does that mean we're going to the Alley with the Zabini's again?"

"I thought you didn't like Mrs. Zabini?" His father drew his wand from the cane that rested against his desk and pointed the tip at the surface of the table. Draco took a small step backwards as everything was placed neatly in piles and the quill his father had used was dried and placed next to the other writing utensils.

With that finished, the older wizard looked up at Draco and raised an eyebrow in question.

Draco blinked in confusion before he remembered his father's question. "I don't, but Blaise is better than Theo. Theo's a brat." Draco paused, scuffing his foot on the rug while he frowned. After a moment, he looked back at his father and smiled, "Do you think Theo's dad did the same thing that you did?"

The man stood up - after he stowed his wand away - and walked over to his son and placed his hand on the smaller head, ruffling the blonde hair gently and ignoring the boy's flinch. "Perhaps, but it's not for us to know. Remember?"

"Right." Draco sighed, standing still under his father's hand. "No one knows what we don't show. If anyone else is like us, it's their secret and we can't know." He paused before peeking up at his father. He bit his lips, his words hesitant, "Can I tell one of my friends when I'm at school, though?"

"No, Draco."

Draco huffed and carefully stepped away from his father, the older wizard dropping his hand to his side.

"But it's not fair."

The man laughed, "I know. Life tends to not be fair."

The boy clasped his hands behind his back and stared at a spot to the side of his father so he wouldn't have to stare at the man.

"Draco."

Draco looked up at his father, "Yes, Father?"

"What if you see Harry Potter?"

"Ignore him," like he would with other kids. Which didn't really make sense to Draco after everything that his family told him about the other boy. Not only that, but Draco didn't even know what Harry Potter looked like. No one seemed to have any pictures of Harry.

"And if he talks to you?"

"Say something to make him not like me." Again, like how he would act with other kids. Draco crossed his arms and glared at his father. "But why?

His father pinched his nose before answering, "What have your mother and I told you repeatedly all your life?"

Draco clenched his teeth and whispered, "'I can not, and will not, befriend Harry Potter.' But you never told me why. You never tell me anything about why I have to do certain things. Why do I have to pretend to hate Harry Potter? Why do I have to pretend to be someone else? Why does Severus -"

"Enough, Draco."

Draco's mouth snapped closed and he stared at his father.

The wizard had his eyes closed and was massaging his head, "Draco, there are many things that you can not know yet. For now, you must trust your mother and I. We will explain everything to you when you're older."

That was what he always said, but Draco sighed and nodded his head, "Yes, Father."

"Good. Go wait for our guests in the Floo Room, I will be joining your mother momentarily."

"Yes, Father," Draco bowed a little at the waist before bolting out of the room, grateful that his father didn't call him back.

Once he was a ways away Draco slowed down to a walk, placing his hands in his pockets. He didn't pay attention the marbled walls, or soaring ceilings. He ignored the paintings sleeping in their portraits - he had already spoken to them about his acceptance letter to Hogwarts - and the chandeliers floating in the air.

He turned around corners and walked down corridors, a frown marring his face. His father should have a better answer than, 'I'll tell you later when you're older'. Draco had heard that for most of his life. All his father seemed to care about was Draco's ability to do as he was told and Draco being able to act as a Malfoy in the public: rude, mean and uncaring about others that have little to no purpose to them or nice, suave and polite to those who would be allies with them.

Draco pushed the door open to the Floo Room and stood waiting a good three yards away from the mouth of the fireplace - he did not want to get dust all over his robes.

A small pop was the only warning Draco had before a house-elf was bowing before him, the large ears grazing the carpet. "Master Draco, the guests will bes arriving soons. I ams opening the Floo Connection nows."

The house-elf straightened and eyes the color of tennis balls met Draco's. The creature smiled and went to the fireplace to place a hand on the banister. The two glowed briefly before the house-elf turned one last time to bow to Draco.

"Thank you, Dobby."

Dobby glanced up at the smiling boy before returning the smile and leaving.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait very long before the flames turned green and Theodore Nott stumbled out of the floo, though the other boy didn't fall like he had the previous time he had visited Malfoy Manor.

"Theo," Draco greeted as Theodore stepped towards him, dusting off his robes.

"Draco," the other boy replied.

Seconds later, a larger man stepped out - more gracefully than Theodore - and looked down at Draco, a frown pulling the man's lips downwards.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor. Come, we must be meeting with my parents in the adjoining room."

Hoping his father had met with his mother in time, Draco led the other two through a side door that a house-elf - Dixon - held open for them. He was greeted with the sight of his parents sitting side by side.

"Father, Mother." Draco continued to walk forward until he was able to lean over and kiss his mum's cheek. He straightened and went to stand beside his father's chair.

His father finally broke the silence that had stretched on for a minute, "Tharin, I see you have come, though you are a bit later than you said you would be. I imagine that Draco must have been there for minutes waiting for your arrival." When Tharin drew his shoulders back and opened his mouth to speak, Lucius stood and continued to speak, "Shall we be off? Narcissa."

The tall, slim woman placed her hand in her husband's waiting one and gracefully stood up and led them back into the Floo Room. Draco and his father followed behind her, the younger Malfoy having to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying that the Nott's had arrived precisely on time.

Though, as his father had often said, that to be on time one had to arrive early.

He watched as his mother reached into a see-through vase that stood beside the fireplace on an antique table. She drew out a small handful of glittery, silver powder. She threw the powder into the fireplace, stepped into the green flames, said, "Knockturn Alley" and was swept away.

Draco then followed his mother's lead and grabbed some powder. He didn't glance over at his guests as he tossed the powder into fireplace. He tucked his elbows in before he spoke, "Knockturn Alley."

Fireplaces, hearths, bodies without any true definition flew past - no one the wiser that he had been there seconds ago. He watched - knowing that if he closed his eyes he would be sick when he stepped out - as he passed home after home, wondering who he saw and what the families were doing.

Finally, he felt his body beginning to slow. He waited until he saw his mother clearly before he stepped out, dusting his robes out even though no piece of ash had landed on him.

His mother gave him a swift nod, stepping closer to fix non-existent wrinkles from his clothing. "Excellent, Draco," she whispered in his ear, stepping back with a smile.

He smiled in answer as she swiped her fingers through his bangs. Her hand dropping when Theodore arrived next.

They waited in silence for the two men to arrive, Draco staring around Borgin and Burkes. Shelves were lined with strange items and Draco tried not to react to the coffins, skulls, dead animals, necklaces with grotesque designs and random, disfigured hands.

Once they were all there, the left the dreary shop and headed towards Diagon Alley, which caused Draco to wonder why they hadn't just arrived there first. As they moved towards the lighter streets, they had to pass people in rags all staring at them with beady eyes.

Finally shadows gave way to light and they stood in Diagon Alley, bodies pressing their group close together. Witches and Wizards all wearing different sorts of colored robes bustled past with nary a glance at them.

"Draco," his father's voice had Draco turning to look at his father. A pouch was pressed into his palm, Lucius saying, "Head to Madam Malkin's and get your robes. I'll be getting your books, your mother will be looking at wands for you to try and the Notts," Lucius looked at the two for a moment before dismissing them by looking back at his son, "will be getting their money. We will meet up in Flourish and Blotts when you finish."

"Yes, Father." Draco moved away from the group and towards Madam Malkin's. Why had the Notts agreed to come when they hadn't come prepared?

Draco moved briskly, bumping past people when they were in his way. Luckily he didn't have to push past anyone as most recognized him as the Malfoy heir and sidestepped out of his way. Almost all of them were muttering about him - all uncaring that he could hear what was being said.

His shoulders stayed squared, but his gaze fell to the ground for a moment before he forced his gaze back up. He was the scion of the Malfoy household and he had an image to uphold.

His eyes landed on the sign for Madam Malkin's and he quickly went to the entrance and strode into the store. The witches that were there turned to the door as the bell announced his entrance. They must have recognized his hair - the trademark Malfoy look - and immediately ushered him to an area of the store that was quietest.

Probably to keep him separate from the other customers - an attempt to appease him or to keep from having an argument break out, Draco wasn't completely sure. Perhaps the reasoning was a bit of both.

He stepped onto a stool, pretending to ignore the two chattering witches that were to help him. Though when they mentioned Hogwarts he had to fight to keep a smile off his face. The two were excited to see the new students.

"Are you excited to be starting at Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy?"

He looked down his nose at the witch who spoke, "Your concern should be on my robes, not my thoughts."

Madam Malkin sighed, continuing to mark the measurements of the boys frame, "Of course, dear."

For the past five years, Madam Malkin had created Draco's robes herself as the boy's father paid for her specifically. During those times Draco had enjoyed listening to her speak of Hogwarts and whatever else she decided to speak about, her words always soft and kind hearted. She smiled when speaking of the old school or her family and he listened with rapt attention even when he pretended to ignore her. He had hoped that his father would change his mind so he didn't have to pretend anymore. He had hoped he would be able to talk to the woman and enjoy the thought of going to school.

While she spoke of her daughter, Dawn, the front door opened with a small squeak, announcing someone's presence into the store. Another boy walked in, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed, green eyes peeking through the mess of black bangs. The frames that sat on the boy's nose were too large, as were the clothing that seemed to hang on the boy's thin frame.

Draco glanced around, trying to pretend that he was annoyed with having to stand so still for so long. The only space available for the other boy was near Draco himself. The blonde tried to keep from squirming when one of the other seam mistress brought the boy over to them and situated him on the block next to Draco.

The other boy was smaller than others his age, but it looked like he was getting Hogwarts robes.

Taking in a small breath of air, Draco started a conversation, "Hello. Hogwarts, too?"

 _Right. Start the conversation light._

The boy looked up and blinked at Draco, as if he hadn't expected the blonde to speak to him. Black bangs fell across the rims of his glasses, drawing attention to the break in the bridge of the hardware. When he spoke, the boy's words were soft, "Yes."

 _Are you excited? I am._

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." _There, that sounded better. He was supposed to be spoiled._ "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?"

Green eyes flickered to the ground and eyebrows scrunched together before the boy shook his head, "No."

 _Have you flown before? It's fun!_

"Play Quidditch at all?"

Again the boy shook his head, still not looking over at Draco. "No."

 _It's the best sport! The Seeker and Beater's positions are the best!_

"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree." His father hadn't said that, not really, but the woman who was measuring the boy sniffed so what he said must have been at least somewhat believable. "Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

 _You're just saying one worded sentences... why?_

"Well, no one really know until they get there, do they? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, my whole family has been - imagine being in Hufflepuff." Draco shuddered for emphasis as he asked, "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

The woman from before looked up to glare at Draco.

Oops, must have been in Hufflepuff. Draco fought to keep his snort of laughter from escaping and turned his attention back onto the other boy.

"Mmm."

Huh, he really did only speak with one word sentences. Draco narrowed his eyes, studying the boy with more purpose than before. The clothes were too baggy and were obviously worn to the point of rips naturally occurring in the fabric. His glasses were broken and were too large for his face.

The boy scuffed his foot and Draco realized he had been staring for longer than he should have. Oops. He turned his attention to the window and saw a large man and quickly recognized who it was. "Wow, look at that man!"

For the first time during the whole - one-sided - conversation, the boy looked up to see what Draco was talking about. A large grin spread across the smaller boy's face and he waved at Hagrid, who happily waved back. The boy looked over at Draco, meeting the blonde's gaze head on, "That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."

 _Yeah, I've heard of him. He sounds… nice, in a weird sort of way._

"Oh, I've heard of him." Draco scrunched up his nose, tilting his head to the side. "He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

Frowning, the other boy quickly looked back out the window, "He's the gamekeeper."

 _That's right. Doesn't he live at Hogwarts?_

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed." Which did kinda sound funny, if Draco stopped to think about what he said.

A glare was focused on Draco when the boy faced him again. "Well, I think he's brilliant."

 _I suppose I should meet him, then?_

"Do you?" Draco raised an eyebrow, looked over at Hagrid and then back at the boy. "Why is he with you, anyway? Where are your parents?"

The boy's face was wiped clean of anger, annoyance or shyness, leaving only a blank look. "They're dead."

 _I'm sorry to hear that._

"Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren't they?"

Well, that question brought back the boy's annoyance. "They were witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

 _Maybe I've heard of them... Oh, I'm sorry! I never did catch your name._

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter. Imagine! I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

"You're done, dearie," the witch who was working on the boy's robes patted him on the leg as she stood up. "Your robes will be ready for you to pick up in a few hours."

The boy thanked the woman softly before jumping off his stool and racing out of the store to meet up with Hagrid. A small cough had Draco looking down to stare at Madam Malkin who was softly shaking her head. "You are finished as well, Mr. Malfoy. Off you go."

Draco was sure she was going to say something else, but Madam Malkin simply stood and walked to another customer, leaving the blonde to leave the store. Draco walked quietly into the bookstore and soon found his party.

For a moment, he stood to the side of the door, just staring at his mother and father. Though his mother's arm was through his father's, her eyes were pinched at the sides and her mouth barely turned down as she looked at the school books in front of her.

He rubbed at his chest, feeling a pang of sadness that she had to look like that. He wanted nothing more than to go hug her, but he couldn't. Instead, he dropped his hand, held his head high and walked forwards.

* * *

Later that night, Draco sat cross-legged on his bed, his eyes closed as he meditated like Sev taught him.

First: calm his thoughts. He had to keep his emotions at bay to look into his mind.

Second: Pull his magic forward and blanket himself with it. Let it swirl around him, shielding him until all he felt was his magic. He had to know what his magic felt. He had to remember the difference to find what he had to.

Third: Go into his own mind. That part of his meditation had taken him years to learn how to do. He had to center his magic around his head and let it... seep back into himself and he had to follow it.

Once there, he landed on a path where images blended and flowed together. Draco never looked at them, the movement to jarring for him to make sense of. He recognized places and people, but never what was going on.

Fourth: He had to find the different source of magic. This hadn't taken too long to learn. He had immediately felt a presence that didn't feel quite right. He walked forward until he found the area he was searching for: a lake.

The waves splashed around erratically; faces, places all moving so quickly that Draco couldn't even tell what he was seeing. There were only flashes before another wave rolled forward and muddied anything he might have been able to see.

There, in the depths of the water, was what he was searching for, checking on.

Stepping forward without hesitation, he entered the water, sinking deeper and deeper under the surface.

When he had first done so, he had thought he would have to hold his breath and that he wouldn't have been able to see. He had been wrong on both accounts.

He continued to walk, memories swirling around him in multitudes of color. When he reached the bottom he saw what he knew was there: a cage made of golden tendrils.

Draco wrapped his arms around himself as he slowly moved forward. Unfortunately he finally stood in front of the bars.

At first he kept his attention on the swirling magic, touching the bars with his hands and channeling his own magic into the barrier.

When he finished he had to flinch back when he saw thin, pale fingers grasping the bars in front of him. Draco tried, he really did, but he couldn't stop his eyes from raising and meeting the gaze of who looked out at him.

Silver eyes stared at him, blonde hair falling around high cheekbones and a smirk pulling thin lips upwards. The mouth parted, forming words and soundless bubbles floated to the highest part of the cage before popping.

With a gasp, Draco's eyes snapped open and found himself trembling. He grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around himself, falling on his side to burrow his face in his pillow.

 _Never again, he would never do that again._

Even as he told himself that, he knew he would have to. He couldn't let him out.

He covered his head with his blanket and hoped he would be able to sleep.

—-

A/N: IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Hi everyone! if you haven't seen my profile, then let me tell you what I'm doing. This is the first of 5 stories I'm posting today. I've been stuck on writing because I've been juggling between all the stories in my head. I'm going to focus on the story that gets the most views/follows/favorites/reviews ect ect. in the next week. I'll be doing a tally on 2-25-18.

Yes, this is a rewrite of Behind the Mask, which I'm doing for three main reasons. 1) I don't like how I wrote the original… some of it was painful to read… really, really painful to read (and I had to reread the story multiple times. GAH). 2) I don't think I gave this fic any justice. For me, I think I took on a monster when I first started and I feel like I merely tapped it on the hand. So this is me trying to completely kill it. XD 3) I couldn't keep this story out of my head. Draco and *insert other main character's name who you'll meet later here* kept poking my brain going 'rewrite this, rewrite this'. Besides, I simply love those two and I couldn't let them go quite yet.

I want to say hello again to everyone who has previously read this story! I hope this edited version is a better read for you and that you enjoy it! As you can see, there is already a huge difference in how I'm handling this story.

I will keep the old story up until I have finished posting this one. The old one will be deleted once this story is marked as complete - unless a lot of people demand I keep it up.

Any guest questions will be at the bottom of any A/N's I have - and I will most likely have A/N's… Shocked? Yeah... Didn't think so. XD

It's still going to be quite slow in the beginning as the real plot doesn't really start until 3rd/4th year.

Unbeta'd

Anyway:

HERE ARE THE WARNINGS. SO ANYONE LIKE ME WHO DOESN'T LIKE WARNINGS, YOU CAN STOP READING NOW. :)

Warnings: AU (same basic premise of killing Voldy, though) torture (why this story will be rated M), non-cannon relationships (some will stay the same), a m/m pairing with nothing graphic (?/Draco - unless you've already read this then you already know who the other guy is), mostly m/f pairings (won't tell you who), manipulative!Dumbledore (I can't help but write him that way even though I like him... oops?) and there is a hint of a threesome, but that is only mentioned once and never again (silly characters).


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